


it's the normal people that scare me

by katyfaise



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, The Last of Us AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 14:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2153706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katyfaise/pseuds/katyfaise





	it's the normal people that scare me

“I’m not your fucking cure.”

It’s the last thing she says to him and he realizes that while she’s right, she’s definitely something else.

—

He hasn’t lost many people actually - mostly because there was nobody to lose in the first place. For the last ten years he’s been smuggling goods and ration cards in and out of the town alongside those he dares call friends. It’s home, the closest he has to one now, because when his mother was infected and his father put her down he left. Everything they had became his, even as the town began to change. Now it’s just some decrepit buildings as a front because overtime it’s been converted into a massive underground city - one that safely houses hundreds of displaced families and those left on their own, just like him. And as miserable as the rationing is, as hard as the rules are to follow, Enjolras thinks that there’s really one thing he truly misses.

The sun.

—

“Are you ready?”

Her voice knocks him out of whatever thought he’s descended into and Enjolras looks up at the new companion. Hair is cut very short, choppy and uneven and it’s obvious she did it herself with blunt scissors and despite the beanie over her head most of the parts still stick out. He doesn’t _know_ her. Or.. he knows her.

She’s Eponine Jondrette, nineteen years old, partial to plaid and heavy boots even in the high summer temperature, and she has a permanent scowl on her lips. 

Oh and she was bitten three weeks before and has yet to turn into one of those mindless, cannibalistic.. _things_.

But still, he doesn’t know a thing about her. Nor does he crave to.

He’s got one interest and that interest lies in finishing the job ahead of him - getting Eponine to the rendezvous point and handing her off to the other members of the underground resistance he claims loyalty to. They’ll take care of her from there and her complaining and bad jokes.

“Yeah… Let’s go. We have to make it at least halfway before the sun comes up.”

Traveling by night is the only way to go, despite the mutants or zombies or whatever the hell they are.

In his world, what lurked in the daytime was more dangerous than anything else.

It’s funny how the people like him always turn out the worst.

—

They arrive at the rendezvous point on time - early even - to complete silence and bodies scattering the ruins of the capital building like a goddamn second thought decoration.

Enjolras kneels beside someone he recognizes, someone who used to be known as Courfeyrac, and carefully checks the body. No bite marks, just bullet holes. The army, Enjolras figures. 

He reverently closes the body’s eyes, eyes that are glued open with shock and pain and he lowers his head.

“This was _not_ supposed to happen.”

He expects an answer, a witty remark from Eponine, but he hears nothing because when he checks over his shoulder all that’s left is a cloud of dust from where she’s run off and faintly he can hear the angry noises coming from elsewhere.

They echo off the walls and surround him and he tries his best to follow the noise. When he hones in on it, she’s breaking everything she can get her hands on - anger flowing out in a completely destructive way that reminds him of himself.

“You’re going to get us killed! What the fuck are you doing?”

“This is my fault.”

She tries to kick over an abandoned stone and when the weight is too much for her she instead falls to the ground, cursing under her breath at the pain she feels.

“Those people were here to get me. They were here because they thought I could be a cure for whatever the fuck has happened and now look at them… I didn’t even know their names.” 

She pulls her legs up to her chest and holds them close, fighting back tears that bite at her dark eyes.

Enjolras isn’t used to _this_. Emotion. Feelings. Whatever it is she’s exhibiting frightens him and all he can do is stand up with a straight back and clear his throat.

“Well… I guess this is where we part ways then.”

The way her emotions change nearly gives him whiplash and before he can fight back Eponine is on her feet and has pushed against his chest roughly.

“The fuck we are!”

He stammers for a moment before steadying and stares at her, clearly lost.

“What else are we going to do? I was supposed to take you _here_. I’ve done my part. It’s over.”

“No.” 

Her voice is steady and solid and… scary.

“No, Enjolras. These people put their life on the line for me and we’re going to finish this.”

“I don’t understand how putting their lives on the line for _you_ equates an _us_ in this. I would much rather return home and get paid, which I will be getting either way.”

Eponine narrows her eyes and takes a step toward him - stands toe to toe with him and he realizes she’s not that much shorter than him. Her height is intimidating but he clenches his fists.

“You wanna be the asshole that kept the world from getting better? Haven’t you lost people because of this?”

_No_ , he wants to reply. But there’s something in her eyes that tells him she’s lost enough for the both of them and he sighs.

“Fine. But we’re doing this my way, deal?”

Eponine holds out her hand and it’s in that moment she looks the youngest, with some wild optimism in her eyes despite what she’s lost, so he takes her hand in his and shakes it curtly.

“Deal.”

—

She feels guilty, in only the smallest part of her chest, because she _knows_ that she isn’t supposed to hear him. Enjolras has busted his ass (not that she didn’t help of course) to get them out of harm’s way and out in the absolute middle of nowhere to his oldest friend and contact’s farm - some tattooed man with glasses that goes by the name Combeferre. But the old farmhouse is too quiet not to hear the old friends downstairs and she can’t resist crawling down the stairs to listen and.. 

God, she’s so stupid for being hurt.

Enjolras is almost content and happy, or at least close to whatever that emotion might be - sitting near a fire, since the nights are getting colder and drinking too strong coffee spiked with too strong whiskey that will keep him going for days. There’s a sudden slapping screen door that interrupts their conversation and both men go to investigate only to find Eponine stomping across the yard to the barn, motion lights surrounding her in a flood of yellow.

By the time she hears the barn door open and slide closed, she’s curled up in the edge of a box stall, dark eyes on the cow that is sleeping in front of her.

Combeferre says that the cow is due any day now and it’s weird for Eponine to think that amongst all the destruction and death, life inevitably must move on.

Which is why it shouldn’t surprise her that Enjolras is trying to do just that.

“Isn’t it weird?” she asks, holding her legs to her chest in the way she doesn’t whenever she’s vulnerable. It’s like she’s guarding her whole self, or at least what Enjolras guesses.

He cocks an eyebrow up, crossing his arms as he waits.

“She’s going to have a baby and it’ll grow up and it’ll be like nothing terrible has ever happened around them.”

“Eponine,” he begins, standing straight, “it’s a cow. It’s not some psychological statement on the state of mankind. It’s a cow.”

“You know, you’re the only one who has stuck around with me. Sure it’s cause you are… were, getting paid, but you _stayed_. And now you want to pawn me off on some guy I don’t even know?” Her voice is rising and Enjolras can do nothing but stare at the ground. He can’t deny her accusation, not when it’s true. Running off to the barn must have been a result of eavesdropping, but how was he to reprimand her when she looked so… young?

“I’m not…” He shakes his head because he doesn’t know how to prove her wrong. Semantics seems to be the best bet.

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I deserve better than that, don’t you think?”

Enjolras sighs - rubs his brow because she’s so damn frustrating.

“I’m not trying to _pawn you off_ , Eponine. Look at all this? Combeferre has nearly a fortress here. He can make sure that you’re safe and reach the resistance so you’ll make it there in one piece.”

“Safe? You don’t have to worry about me staying safe. Did you forget that I’m immune?”

“Well I’m not!”

His sudden outburst surprises Eponine and she backs away, eyes lowering to the ground. She feels ashamed suddenly, because she’s forgotten. She’s forgotten that he really is putting his life on the line and as grateful as she is it’s easier to focus on other things. 

“You can’t just leave me,” she says quietly, folding her hands together in front of her. “We have come this far _together_. And we’re going to finish this, alright? Together.”

He nods and for a moment he stands in the quiet.

“Together,” he echoes.

—

It’s winter.

It’s cold and the wind is harsh and Eponine has blood on her hands and she doesn’t know what the hell to do. 

“Just calm down, Eponine. It’s just a scratch. It just grazed me.”

“There’s a fucking bullet in your leg…”

“Yeah see, not too bad.”

Eponine rolls her eyes and she knows that somehow she’s making the whole situation worse. But she’s applying pressure to the wound like she knows she should and she’s trying to dig the round out despite Enjolras keeping a strong face. She knows he’s in pain but there’s nothing she can do. 

And she feels utterly helpless.

She can’t even estimate how much time passes before she gets the bullet out but she knows for a fact she’ll never be a surgeon. Eponine carefully wraps the wound with the cleanest bandages she’s found and leans back with a heavy sigh, wiping her wrist against her sweaty brow since her hands are bloody.

Enjolras is breathing heavy and his flushed and Eponine curses under her breath as she leans forward to feel his forehead.

“You’re fevered. You’re going to need something or…” Eponine trails off because she doesn’t want to consider the option of her only companion, only _friend_ , dying and leaving her alone. But there’s a sudden grasp on her wrist and Eponine stops short. 

“ _Don’t_ go out there, Eponine.” His eyes are serious even though they’re glossy.

“Immune,” she reminded.

“Not to bullets.”

He has a point but Eponine can’t just leave him without medication. There’s a dispensary up the road and maybe she can manage something from there.

“I’ll be safe. I’m quick and I’ll stay low. It’s nightfall anyway - I doubt I’ll even see another person.”

But she does see another person. Many persons. And Eponine curses herself for not listening to Enjolras and staying away from the town. Not that she can curse herself for long because there’s a butt of a gun against her head and she’s blacked out instantly.

—

When Enjolras wakes, he’s warm and comfortable and he’s not in the cabin that was so familiar to him. He sits with a start and there are footprints that fall heavy beside him when he tries to move from the bed only to stumble forward.

“You shouldn’t put any weight on that leg. Might have to lose it.”

Enjolras narrows his eyes at the stranger and groans a hiss through his teeth.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay. Who are you? Where am I?” Enjolras looks around at the small room and then back to the man. “Where’s Eponine.”

“Awful lot of questions for someone we saved…” The man sits down then, steepling his fingers on his lap. “My name is Javert and I run this faction of United Front. You’re in our compound. We found Eponine raiding a dispensary and… took her into our care. Then we found you and brought you as well.”

They have made it. He’s sure that Eponine would rub it in his face, remind her of all the time he’s told her they would never find the group. But now they’re… safe. Yes. That’s the familiar feeling in his chest. Or is it worry? Enjolras can’t place it because his head is blurry and the throbbing in his leg matches his heartbeat.

“Where is Eponine?” Enjolras asks again, hands clutching on the side of the bed where he sits uncomfortably.

“She’s safe right now. You have my word. We’re thankful for you getting her here in one piece - we were worried for a bit, especially after what happened to those we sent after her originally. The few left in the military do not seem to take too kindly to us.” Javert trails off. “Maybe because we’re looking for a way to end their new world order - to cure this disease.”

He listens to all of these words, words that seem gilded and too good to be true but if there’s anything he trusts in this moment it’s that Eponine has _finally_ made it. Enjolras stands and moves toward what looks to be an exit before he pauses to look back to Javert.

“Well? Aren’t you going to take me to her? I want to see her - make sure she knows I’m okay.”

“She can’t see you right now.” 

Javert stands, hands clasped behind his back as he moves toward the door. 

“She’s being prepped for surgery.”

Enjolras’s eyes widen, taken by surprise at the words.

“Surgery?”

“You see, we’ve learned that the infection kills the synapsis in the brain. It gathers there and suffocates them. And Eponine’s brain is immune to that. We’ll study that and find a way to synthesize whatever we can find.”

Enjolras is lost for only a moment before the realization slow dawns on him. Maybe it’s the pain he feels, maybe he’s still groggy - but Javert can not be saying what he does.

“Why surgery if you’re just studying?”

“It’s much easier to study her brain when it’s removed.”

“No.” His voice is quiet but it comes from deep inside and he’s so, so serious.

Javert seems to sense the tension in the room because he takes a step back, though his hands still stay clasped behind him.

“Now, don’t do anything rash, Enjolras. This is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for. Do you want to destroy it just for one person?”

“She’s an innocent girl! She doesn’t deserve to be your lab experiment. Nobody does!”

“Sacrifices must be made for the good of the world.”

“Not her. Not Eponine.” Enjolras is grabbing at Javert’s lapels, somehow hoping to overpower him, but Javert kicks at Enjolras’s wounded leg and he falls, pain surging through his body. Javert steps away and opens the door, clears his throat before an armored figure steps into the room.

“Keep an eye on this one.”

And before he exits he lingers at the doorway.

“Don’t get any ideas, Enjolras,” his words bite as he leaves.

The figure stands in front of the door, finger carefully on the trigger of the rifle he holds and Enjolras looks up his place on the ground and plays through his brain. It’s not like the man is a trained soldier, though Enjolras isn’t either. Maybe it’s adrenaline, he doesn’t know for sure because he has never been in this position, but he immediately flies forward and grabs toward the rifle. It’s a fight that Enjolras doesn’t expect - his leg is too sore for this sort of activity - but he slams the end of the rifle up toward the man’s jaw and he groans out, only to lose his grip on the gun. 

He considers apologizing for his following actions, for slamming the butt of the rifle down on the man’s head until he passes out, but how innocent can he be? As far as Enjolras is concerned they’re all guilty in this. Enjolras searches the man, taking ahold of a pistol and slipping it into the back band of his pants beneath his shirt.

The hallways and dim lights confuse Enjolras especially since the pain is nearly blinding, but he is trying to stay quiet, trying to stay in the shadows. He slinks through the compound, checking locked door after door. It’s in the well lit, white and antiseptic smelling area that he finds Eponine - wrapped in a blanket on a hospital cot behind a sheet.

He moves to her and leans over the bed, gently pushes hair from her face. 

“Eponine,” he whispers, frown on his face.

“Come on, Eponine, wake up.”

She moves her head to the side, seemingly hearing him, but her eyes remain closed. He has no idea what they’ve done to him, but he knows one thing - he has to get her out of there.

He’s unwiring her, ignoring the beeps that blare through the room.

“Is this really what you want?”

The voice brings him pause and Enjolras turns slowly, meeting Javert and a gun aimed right at him.

He moves away from Eponine and with his arms up, turns to meet the other man. 

“She is our only hope, Enjolras. We can _end_ this, with her brain. Don’t you think she would want that? _Want_ to help the world?”

Enjolras shakes his head, a frown on his face.

“Not at the cost of her own life.”

Javert sighs and rubs his brow. “Many more lives have been lost. What’s one more when there’s the potential for a cure? Eponine is the cure!”

“She’s not your fucking cure!”

There isn’t a rebuttal from Javert, but he nods toward the ground. 

“You would’ve been great to have in this cause, Enjolras… Get down, hands behind your back.”

Enjolras obeys the order, kneeling down and reaching behind his back. Fingers wrap around the gun tucked carefully and it’s a short moment before the gunshot rings out in the room. Javert falls in front of him, the shock on his face apparent even as he hits the ground.

“I’m only a smuggler. I don’t have a cause.” 

He stands and turns back to Eponine, carefully lifting her from the bed. 

He’s kept his promise to protect her.

—

It’s barely been a year but things are normal.

Well as normal as the world can be surrounding these types of disasters. 

Somehow they make it back to Combeferre’s and before long the both of them plant roots that neither want to pull up.

He doesn’t miss anything back home - not that he has anything there - and maybe he allows a little bit too much of his time to revolve around the girl with the dark eyes and bright smile and an immunity to the creatures that lurk around them but he doesn’t care.

There are more important things to worry about.

The two sit on the front porch swing, fingers lightly touching as they swing back and forth and it’s Eponine that snakes her fingers over his and laces their hands together.

“You ever lie to me?” she asks, as they both stare ahead to watch Combeferre try to wrangle a horse that had wandered into the field.

“I try not to.”

She looks at the smile ghosting on his lips and he thinks she might be joking but her eyes are somber.

“I’m not the reason there’s no cure yet? Right?”

He glances over at her and although his mind is racing, he keeps his eyes steady. 

“You just… weren’t what they were looking for. You were still pretty sedated when they let you go. Escorted you to a car and everything. Really nice people.”

She opens her mouth to question further but Combeferre’s yells for her from the field and Eponine’s attention is pulled away. There’s a smile on her lips as she slides her fingers away from his hand and her skin lights his afire on the inside. She hops down the steps, running toward Combeferre.

“Hey, be careful alright?” Enjolras yells behind her, eyes blinded by the sun that shines down on them.

“Don’t worry about me!” she calls back, turning to face him. “I’m not your fucking cure.”

It’s the last thing she says to him and he realizes that while she’s right, she’s definitely something else.


End file.
